


The Stars In Their Flight

by Decepticonsensual



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22069090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual
Summary: Hound shows Mirage the wonders of their new homeworld by taking him snowboarding in the Canadian Rockies.  Mirage is a veteran of Autobot Special Operations - surely, he can handle a little snow?
Relationships: Hound/Mirage
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60
Collections: Secret Solenoid '19-'20





	The Stars In Their Flight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeoBioBot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeoBioBot/gifts).



> A Secret Solenoid gift for GeoBioBot!

Mirage had been the pride of Autobot Special Ops and the scourge of Decepticon counterintelligence for millions of years. In that time, he’d made enemy agents weep and veteran soldiers tremble, knowing that his stealth was such that they would never sense him coming, until he was poised to strike.

As Mirage hurtled down the mountain at breakneck speed, arms windmilling, he reflected wryly that it was a good thing none of those Decepticons were around to see him now.

He let out a startled squawk as he shot over a low rise and for one brief, glorious moment, became airborne. Then his snowboard slammed into the ground at the wrong angle, and Mirage felt his foot twisting under him; he tumbled end over end, and took a dive into the fresh powder.

Hound zipped past him, then dismounted and turned to rush back up the slope. “You okay there, ’Raj? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“Only my dignity,” Mirage answered, flopping idly onto his back. The clean snow felt wonderfully cool against his overheated frame, and for a moment, he contemplated spending the rest of the day like that. Earth’s sky took on a rich blue on days this cold, as luminous as the rooftop crystal gardens in the Iacon Towers. It reminded him so much of home, it made his ventilations catch.

A hand extended into his line of sight, and brought him back to the present. Smiling in spite of himself, Mirage took it.

Hound hauled him to his feet, and helped brush the snow from sensitive joints – and if his hands lingered in a few of those joints longer than was strictly necessary, Mirage had no complaints.

“You felt it, though, didn’t you?” Hound asked softly, reaching up to thumb the last of the snow away from the vents next to Mirage’s cheek. “Even for a moment?”

“All right, all right. I admit it. That was...” Mirage couldn’t quite keep the awe out of his voice. “Quite something.” Mirage had raced occasionally – for pleasure, rather than professionally – and he remembered vividly the moment, during the very best races, when he stopped seeing his competitors and felt only the track, melting into his own wheels, until the sheer exhilaration of speed billowed up and eclipsed everything else. This was like that moment, but somehow better – here, there was no track, no other racers, not even the sensation of his wheels over asphalt to distract him. There was only the liquid rush of the snow under his board, and the speed, and the endless expanses of white and blue.

It was more than thrilling. It felt – liberating.

Hound grinned, before dropping his gaze, suddenly nervous. “Still, you said you’d try once, and you did; if you don’t want to go again, I understand -”

“And let you think that’s the best I can do? Perish the thought.” Mirage’s smile was wicked.

As they headed back up the slope, though, he felt his spark whir with an excitement that had little to do with proving himself, and much more with the prospect of feeling that rush again.

***

“Is this the way Seekers feel all the time?” demanded Mirage several hours later, a massive grin on his face. “No wonder they’re always so pleased with themselves.”

Hound laughed, but he had to admit that the comparison was an apt one: Mirage had gone from rigidly wobbling his way downhill to executing knife-edge turns with a speed and grace that did give the impression of a jet in flight.

He was clearly relishing showing off, as well. Mirage ended his next run with a flourish that sent a light spray of snow over Hound’s feet, and stood, beaming.

“Glad you came along?”

“Guess,” Mirage teased, and stepped off his board, holding it up triumphantly. Hound quickly scanned an image to save. Mirage was normally a mech of sly half-smiles; it was rare, and lovely, to see him grinning so openly.

But the moment wasn’t quite so sacred that Hound could resist the temptation to reach down to the snow, and scoop some up, hiding it behind his back.

“It’s easier to master than I feared,” Mirage commented, looking back up the slope with satisfaction. “In fact, I’d say I’m –”

He must have caught a glint in his peripheral vision, because he turned – just in time for Hound’s snowball to splat directly onto his cheek.

“ _Really,_ Hound,” Mirage intoned drily, flicking the remains of the snowball from his plating with a disdainful wave of his hand. “You’re going to end such a lovely excursion with such a juvenile prank?”

“Yep,” Hound replied, knowing Mirage too well to buy the mock-offence for a second.

And it was a good thing, too, because that meant that when a hefty chunk of snow loomed up and began hovering eerily over Hound, as if held aloft by some invisible force, Hound was already poised to start running.

***

“Simply breathtaking,” Mirage sighed, lying back to gaze through the flap of their tent at the stars beyond. By his time, the skies above Cybertron had become too polluted to allow stargazers to see much, even on the clearest nights. Here on Earth, there were still places where the bright wheel of their galaxy was spread across the sky like – well, like snowflakes.

Homesickness was an old ache, but what was new and strange was the sense – more frequent, now, the longer he spent on this little planet – that Earth held certain attractions that home couldn’t match. Sometimes it troubled Mirage, but right now, the thought made him smile.

“Sorry, what was that? I still have snow in my audial _for some reason._ ”

Mirage hummed noncommittally. “That was the natural consequence of your own actions.”

“Was my action falling in love with the kind of mech who would sneak up behind me and shove snow in my audial?”

“Yes.”

Hound chuckled. Then, after a moment’s silence, he said in a different voice, “I like seeing you like this.”

Mirage half-turned, smiling in the starlight. “Bring me up here more often, and you might just see it again.”

He felt Hound’s fingers find his in the dark and interlace their hands. “I promise.”


End file.
